Original subtitles

REMINGTON STEELE INVESTIGATIONS

"Havenhurst Detective Agency.".

"Cordially invited to a reunion.

Please invite Mr Steele.

We're all dying to meet him".

Laura?

Murphy?

Ms. Wolfe?

Anyone?

You know, I think they're going to be pretty disappointed when we show up empty handed.

Reunions are supposed to be about catching up with old friends...

seeing how everyone is doing... finding out who put on weight...

If they want to meet Remington Steele, let them drop by the office.

What has it been? Four years since we left Havenhurst Detective Agency.

Boy, it doesn't seem that long does it?

Imagine him, in a room full of detectives.

Ha, they'd be waiting all weekend for him to slip up

and when he did, they'd eat him alive

Oh dear GOD.

Sure does look like old Alan is doing well for himself

Oh dear God!

No Remington Steele?

Couldn't be helped. Last minute thing in Marseille?

Marseille? Marseille?

Come on, Laura, this is Alan. You remember me?

I'm the fella that taught YOU to lie like that.

Fess up.

He couldn't come because the little missus put her foot down, am I right?

Actually, there IS no Mrs. Steele.

You mean... not YET?

So. Tell me how good I look.

- You do. You looked wonderful. - Thirty pounds.

- Oh, I'd kill to lose five. - Where?

Places YOU haven't seen

Well obviously, the reunion's already begun.

- You have an elevator in your house. - Right.

Well, Alan. I'm so proud

Did anyone happen to notice my Seville when you pulled in?

Just got it. Very happy with it, actually. I recommend them.

- Good, Carl. - Alan has an ELEVATOR in his house.

- Carl? - Yeah?

- I... forgot a tie. - Alan's gonna hate that.

- He said formal. - I know.

You see all that help in the kitchen?

Reunion my aunt Fanny. You know what this is?

- What? - "The Alan Grievey Show".

- Check my bag. I brought a couple. - Thanks.

Some things never change.

Alan Grievey was a snake at the Havenhurst Agency,

and he's still shedding skin. You see him all over Laura?

- Yeah. - Havenhurst was such a zoo.

70 detectives. I'm glad we all got out.

Everybody was always tripping over everybody else.

Too big.

Guys like me, you...

they need some visability.

Expecting a little trouble over dinner?

Huh?

A .38's pretty serious baggage for a weekend in the country, isn't it?

Wouldn't know. Never use one.

So. How ya doing now?

- Fair to middlin. And you? - Okay.

- I'm married, kids, you know. - Yeah.

Did I ever meet the guy you finally married?

Meet him? You introduced us.

- I did? - Yeah. You were working at the Agency...

I don't know... maybe a year?

You pulled a divorce case.

A Mrs. Robin Maxwell?

Convinced her husband was doing the dirty deed outside of marriage.

- He WAS guilty, you did catch him. - Yeah, but what...?

Anyway, the next day, he came to the office...

pleaded with us not to give our information to his wife.

You were working on... something else, so I took the meeting.

I told this guy my hands were tied.

He tried to buy me with dinner that night.

- Yeah? What happened? - It worked.

Ah, Sandy.

Love is strange.

What do you think they're talking about?

It's been a long day, Carl. I'm tired...

I don't wanna play detective.

They're talking about missed opportunities.

That's what reunions are about, right?

What if I had worked harder,

what if I had been a little nicer...

what if I...? what if I...?

Right about now, they're saying:

"What if I had noticed you when we were working together at Havenhurst?".

Fools like that never remember.

He never looked at her because he was always looking at you.

And her, she never gave him the time of day.

The only guy she wanted to know about... was Alan.

Say something Holt.

You never talked to me. Never.

Not back at Havenhurst, not now.

- I'm sorry. - You know, we're a lot a like.

Sure, Alan's got a big house.

Sandy's got a rich husband,

but you and me, we got something better:

killer instinct.

"Best murder", �eh?

A man gets on the elevator on the tenth floor.

He's all alone.

It's an express.

The elevator doesn't stop again until the third floor.

When the doors open...

he's dead.

What happened?

It didn't go down to the basement and then back up to the third floor??

- No. - There was no one else on the elevator?

No.

- It hasn't stopped? - No.

It went from the tenth floor, to the third floor, no stops, no people...

was he poisoned?

No.

- But he WAS murdered. - THAT is the name of the game.

Would someone get that, please?

Alan, come on. That's not fair.

Now you're supposed to tell us how the murder was committed.

A little self control, Sandy.

I promise. I won't let you go home without the answer.

Hope I'm not late.

What are you doing here?

I was invited.

Where did you get that?

You're not the only sleuth around here, you know.

- My wastebasket. - Laura, who is it?

So you know that trick as well, do you?

Mr. Steele. We were just playing "best murder".

It would be an honor if you'd contribute one.

Alan, Mr. Steele's been travelling all day

Nonsense, polar flights are second nature to me.

Good.

Then it's your murder.

Yes. Yes, well...

so many to choose from.

In the morning When your head is clear and...

I've had a chance to brief you... on the business of the day

Nonsense, dear, nonsense, nonsense,

Ah, yes. Here's one:

It was a hot day in July.

I was called to the house of a wealthy industrialist by his wife

She met me at the front door of the residence, escorted me into

the study. And there...

lying on the floor, was her husband

quite dead.

Shot, actually.

THAT is your best murder?

It certainly is.

For, ballistic tests conducted several days later...

proved that the path of the bullet

began INSIDE the industrialist's chest...

and travelled outwards.

The bullet travelled from his insides... out?

Precisely.

And since it is essential that a suspect be placed at the scene of the crime...

and since it is difficult if not impossible...

to prove that someone fired the fatal

shot from INSIDE the man's chest...

I think I've had too much to drink.

Yes. I would call that a "best murder".

I don't think I've had ENOUGH to drink.

That is incredible.

That's brilliant.

Why that... so...

What's the answer?

The answer.

Well, The answer.

The answer.

Well, it seems to me that a great murder...

like a great wine, should be savored.

Take the night, or the weekend for that matter

Allow it to sink into your thoughts,

invade your dreams...

Consider it. Ponder it.

And then... if the answer is not obvious to you...

I'm very glad you came, Mr. Steele.

You're going to add a great deal to this weekend.

That's our Mr. Steele. The life of the party.

I, for one, am going to take Mr. Steele's suggestion:

Go to sleep, and let that murder sink into my dreams

Until the morning, then.

- Good night, you two, - Good night, Alan.

- Good night. - Good night.

Good night.

The bullet travelled from INSIDE his body OUT??

- Fascinating, isn't it? - What movie is it from?

Laura. Do you I'd risk embarrasing you...

in front of your friends by stealing a murder from a movie?

What if someone else had seen it?

- You mean...? - Uh-huh.

- Made it up. - It's a question of honor, Alan.

You made promises. You didn't keep them!

Carl, you were MEANT to be used. You ask for it.

You'd be disappointed if someone like me DIDN'T take advantage of you.

Four years is a lot of time to wait for restitution, Alan

A lot of anger builds up. So don't PUSH ME!

It's a joke, right?

- His neck was broken - How poetic.

- Snapped. - In two.

Laura, I guess that leaves out you and me.

- I mean, if we're talking murder. - We are And it doesn't.

Even a ninety pound weakling can break somebody's neck if they know how

Oh, well, thank you. I stand corrected.

What do you think you're doing?

I'm moving the body out of the elevator.

- You're tampering with physical evidence. - I'm NOT tampering with it.

- I'm MOVING it. - Yeah? Well, I wish you wouldn't.

Well, we can't very well leave the body where it is, can we?

Murphy.

All of you, There's been a murder commited here.

APPARENTLY by one of us.

That body just might be our biggest and best clue.

I for one think it's bad form to have your best piece of...

- evidence moved by a potential suspect. - Eres un...

How about if I move the body?

Don't you get it, Sherlock? We're ALL suspects.

- I think that's for the police to decide, don't you? - Police?

Don't you think you're being a bit precipitous, Laura?

- Precipitous? The man's DEAD! - No body is arguing that.

But let's just stop a minute and THINK.

You call the police, and you know what happens?

We're all taken in. Suspects in a murder.

Yes, but that's only a problem if you're guilty

Oh, that's a lot of garbage. Look, I run a detective agency.

You think that people are gonna feel comfortable coming to me with their problems...

Opening up their private lives if they read that I HAVE been suspected of murder?

Come on. Is there anyone here who wouldn't be hurt by that?

Come on. Is there anyone here who wouldn't be hurt by that?

Wait a minute.

Robin and the kids don't know where I am.

I didn't tell them I was coming here. Didn't want to.

It's a marital thing.

I really don't want to have to call them from a police station

- Laura? Murphy? - We don't need any bad publicity.

- Carl? - Cut to the chase, will ya?

What I'd like to propose is that WE investigate the murder.

Give ourselves some sort of time limit... until nightfall.

US investigate US? That's NEVER gonna work!

Murphy's right. We can't even decide who's gonna move the body!

How are we going to investigate a murder...

with the murderer still running around...

probably planting false clues, destroying evidence?

- That's crazy. - Now, the only way this would...

ever work would be if there was somebody on the outside...

somebody with no axe to grind.

Didn't know Alan. somebody we could trust. Somebody...

- Forget that last thought. - Please.

- Mr. Steele? - No.

- Do you think he would? - Oh, no.

I guess I'll buy it if everybody else will.

Morning! Morning.

My goodness, did I sleep soundly. Country air, I'll wager.

Sound sleep like that always makes me feel hungry.

You know what I could go for? Large country breakfast.

Hot cakes, sausages, um-hmm...

The man has been murdered.

I think I'll take the stairs.

Mr. Steele. Sir? Sir.

May I have a word with you?

I HATE working on the weekends.

But... if I must, I must.

I didn't ask you to come UP here!

- They're YOUR friends. - Do me a favor and keep that in mind.

You're absolutely convinced that I'm going to go out there and make a fool of you.

Everyone of those people out there is a TRAINED investigator!

Laura, I understand your squeamishness, but...

the fact remains that they've asked me to oversee this investigation, and oversee it I must.

It's only till nightfall. And I have to believe that TWO bright people...

like us can fool even the finest investigators for that amount of time.

Of course we can.

- Just one question. - What?

- Where should I begin? - What?

It's a simple question. Where should I begin? A starting point.

Something to get the ball moving.

Something to kind of... keep them busy.

impress them with my keen mind.

Oh. Start with the last person to see the victim alive.

- What's that? - The basic rule of detection.

The last person to see the victim alive is...

either a superb witness or an excellent suspect.

Ohh. I like that.

- You do, huh? - Aj�.

Forgive me.

Ravenous.

Now then. Let's begin at the beginning.

Being dyed in the wool professionals...

we all know that the last person to see the victim alive is...

either a superb witness...

or an excellent suspect.

- He's very good. - So then...

the question I put to all of you...

is quite simple:

Who was the last person...

to see Alan Grievey alive?

The murderer.

What is this? A set up?

I know you all heard me and Alan last night...

But I wasn't the last one with him, and I didn't kill him.

You HATED Alan.

Well listen to Walter Cronkite here with the latest breaking news.

Sure, I hated Alan.

You know how the Alan Grievey Agency got so big, so fast?

Alan had me copy every phone number, every file...

and every client who had ever done business with Havenhurst.

And you know how he thanked me?

He laughed in my face.

Said he didn't have any positions for people who couldn't be trusted.

Then, he called good old Donald over here...

made sure HE knew what I'd done.

By the time I got from Alan's to Havenhurst...

my name was off my parking space.

Thanks to good old Alan, no one will touch me.

Don't anybody get out the violins.

Man drove up in a Cadillac.

Yeah. Yeah.

I repossessed it yesterday afternoon.

It goes back to the dealer on Monday.

That's what I do for a living now, folks.

You should always catch me on the weekends, Laura

That's when I look good.

Sure I hated Alan. We ALL hated Alan.

- What about the gun? - What gun?

- The .38 I saw in your bags. - I didn't BRING a gun!

Carl, I SAW it.

Miss Holt, would you be kind enough to check Carl's room?

No way! She works with Murphy.

How do I know she's not gonna plant something?

- I'll go. - YOU?! No!

- Then I'll go. - Not on your life.

What if... we all go?

You wanna tell me about that amused smirk on your face?

You thought I was gonna embarrass you.

These people need someone to lead them...

someone to guide them Someone to show them how it's done.

- And they chose me. - They don't KNOW you.

Their loss.

- What do we do next? - Me?

YOU'RE asking ME?

I thought YOU were going to LEAD them...

GUIDE them, show them how it's done?

And I am... As soon as you tell me how to do it.

Oh, come on. Something. Anything.

"Last person to see the victim alive" Was wonderful.

Sounds so... official.

Happen to have another one like that?

Scene of the crime.

- How's that? - Scene of the crime.

The best single source for conclusive physical evidence...

is almost always the scene of the crime.

Thanks.

No gun.

Must've stashed it somewhere else in the house.

- The scene of the crime. - What?

I have no need to tell you people that the scene of the crime...

is often the best single source of conclusive evidence.

Boy, he IS good.

- You mean the elevator? - Precisely.

Todos lo revisaremos.

- �Qu� haces? - Busco huellas.

��l busca huellas? What are you doing?

Dusting for prints.

No arguing with that.

Mr. Steele? Got a minute?

This is ridiculous.

You want some coffee?

Hey, Sandy, I need the light.

Murphy. Murphy, listen.

Forget about the dusting for a minute. I need your help.

- What are you talking about? - I didn't kill Alan...

But I just know that any time now...

somebody's gonna find something that makes it look like I did.

I figured we'd see some slides of the company picnic...

maybe tell stories about the '78 Christmas party.

Well, good old Alan.

always did have a sense of the theatrical.

Lots of dog food, But no coffee.

Laura, can I be honest with you?

I've been watching that Mr. Steele... of yours and while it's certainly

not my place to say I don't really think he's all he's cracked up to be.

What do you mean?

Well, it's nothing I can put my finger on, It's just a feeling I get.

Look, Mr. Steele, all I'm asking for is a chance.

A chance to prove myself. To show you what I can do.

And when's a better chance gonna come along than this?

Hey, nobody's kidding anybody here, right?

I'm down on my luck. You know it, I know it.

I mean, the repo business is not exactly a growth industry.

Carl, I already have a most able bodied associate in Miss Holt.

And Murphy Michaels is... more than adequate...

Steele, Steele, you're looking at a valuable piece of manpower, here.

I know how to crack this case.

And I know how to make it stick.

It's right there.

The answer to this case... is right there.

Can I ask where these came from?

I found them.

On Alan's body. On his NECK to be precise.

Mr. Steele? With your permission...

I have theory I'd like to share with the others.

No, You'd just like to throw us off the scent.

Sandy, Let's hear what he has to say.

Those are threads. Pices of fabric.

Fabric that must have unravelled, been strained.

Now, we know Alan's neck was broken.

I think whoever broke it used a rope, or a sash...

or something made with those fibers to do it.

So you're suggesting we look for whatever these threads came from.

Rip the place apart if we have to.

But if you find the source of those threads, you've found your killer.

Right, Carl, we'll rip the house apart, and give YOU time to hide the gun.

Forget the gun! he died of a broken NECK.

Of course. You got here...

you realized you couldn't shoot him without everyone hearing it.

so you broke his neck, then you HID the gun.

Now would be an excellent time to lead them, guide them, show them how it's done.

- What is this? I didn't BRING a gun. - People.

Any thoughts about lunch?

A little levity.

Gun or no gun, it seems clear to me that... Carl might be onto something.

Does this mean we all have to run up the stairs again?

Might I make a suggestion, Sir?

Why don't we all take a break?

Murphy needs to fingerprint everyone so he can have something to compare...

with the prints he took off the elevator.

Those of you who wish to look for the source of the fibers... can.

And those who wish to have a little chat... can.

Splendid suggestion, Miss Holt.

We'll all... regroup in an hour.

Gracias.

- This is NOT working. - Certainly it is.

Carl's come up with a solid piece of evidence.

Besides, only five more hours until nightfall.

So long as everyone can stay alive until then.

Seems like we've been doing an awful lot of this today.

I followed her up...

And I startled her.

It's a perfect match to the fibers.

She was trying to get rid of it.

Sandy, where's the belt?

For what it's worth. I think she's innocent

Innocent? Innocent?

What do you people want? A smoking gun?

All right, forget I said gun.

Let's just explore what we have here.

A set of fibers... From where?

- From Alan's neck. - Says who?

- Whaddaya mean, says who? - Sandy's right.

How do we know where those fibers came from?

How do we know Carl didn't come up here take em from the robe, set her up?

Donald, I'm not a murderer, but it's never too late to start.

Nothing like getting a bunch of old chums together, is there?

All right, come on, you guys! Carl.

Now.

Lev�ntate.

Where were we, gentlemen?

I don't understand why Donald keeps protecting Sandy.

I'm NOT protecting Sandy.

I'm just trying to get at the truth.

You can plant fibers, Carl. You can start fights...

But there's nobody here with motive to kill Alan except YOU.

Oh really?

You wanna tell em, Sandy? Or shall I?

I don't know what he's talking about.

I'm talking about a motive for murder.

I'm talking about your husband, And Alan. And about living here.

- Living here? - I was the first one here Friday.

Wanted to talk to Alan about a loan.

A little restitution, if you know what I mean.

But Alan couldn't talk. He wasn't alone.

Sandy was already here.

No car out front, no suitcases.

an awful lot of clothes for just a weekend.

alright, who're you kidding, Sandy?

You didn't slip away for a reunion. How long have you been here?

Good old Carl.

Always could smell other people's dirt a mile away.

Been here for years.

Been here... five days.

I don't suppose it's any secret that Alan and I...

But I decided that I wanted to get married.

And Alan wanted no part of marriage.

So along comes Robin Maxwell.

Wealthy, powerful, aggressive,

everything that Alan was...

except Alan.

Well, three months after the wedding...

I told myself I'd had too much to drink.

then I poured myself another.

Some women knit, some women do needlepoint.

I did Alan Grievey.

You ready for the good part?

I am my husband's second wife. He's been there before.

He SMELLS another man. So, what does he do...

he goes to a detective agency. What agency?

Not Havenhurst, not where he met me,

he goes to the Alan Grievey Agency.

Tells Alan he thinks the little woman is...

Etc�tera. Etc�tera.

Alan always did have a sense of humor.

Of course he took the case.

He waited a week to give Robin the good news.

Now, you ready for the punch line?

He even sent him a bill.

Good old Alan.

So I had nowhere to go. I came here.

I figured a girl could do a lot worse.

But Alan didn't want me around.

Said: "'What's the point in having...

a mistress if you've got to come home to her every night?".

Told me I had to be out of here by Monday.

Cielos.

Sure, I hated Alan Grievey...

But I DIDN'T kill him.

Of COURSE you didn't.

Bueno...

There are still fingerprints to be dealt with.

Miss Holt is quite right.

Let's not jump to any conclusions.

I'll get my print kit.

I'm beginning to think we're making a big mistake.

- Perhaps we SHOULD call the police. - Donald!

What are we DOING?

Whoever did this is toying with us.

They're doing exactly what you said they would do.

Planting evidence, manipulating us.

Well, enough is enough. I'm going.

Donald, don't you think that YOU'RE being a little precipitous?

- Hey. Is he leaving? - Seems to be flirting with the idea.

I, for one, am tired of playing detective for a day.

I also have problems with playing sitting duck for a murderer.

I'll make it a ponit to stop off at the police on my way home.

It's a .38. The one I saw in Carl's room.

You slime! YOU set me up!

- �No! - Ya me cans� de ti.

This is getting very boring.

Have Murphy give one of them the gun, and let's be done with it.

Of COURSE it was you! You planted a gun in my suitcase.

you let Murphy see it, then you took it back to KILL Alan!.

None of you believe that. You know I wouldn't kill Alan, don't you?

Come on, Donald, everyone knows about you and Alan.

How when you were back at Havenhurst...

he used to make you do all his dirty work for him.

Took credit for all your accomplishments.

Used to tell jokes about you behind your back, sometimes to your face.

Sure, sure, but that was ALAN.

I mean, I admired Alan.

And I'll tell you something else:

I LIKED being the second guy through the door...

As long as that first guy was Alan.

Alan was very good.

Sure, he could ride roughshod over your feelings...

But we were a team.

If he were here, he'd tell you that.

Team huh?

That's why when he left Havenhurst. he didn't take you with him.

Stole every client your agency had and left you the king of NOTHING.

I SAID WE WERE A TEAM!

Anyway, it was YOU who stole my clients.

not him. As SOON as Alan heard about it, hell, he called me

It's alright, Donald.

We still have to wait for Murphy to look at the fingerprints.

I couldn't kill Alan.

I counted Alan Grievey among my closest personal friends.

I remember this one case that we were on together.

me doing the legwork...

Alan handling the client relationships:

dinner and whatnot.

The firm that hired us said it:

"You two are a hell of a team".

Murphy, There you are. Did you make a match?

No disputing fingerprints. Finest crime fighting tool ever invented.

There were a lot of partials in the elevator.

many were unusable.

of the indentifiable prints, most were Alan's...

there were a few I couldn't match up.

Murphy, the sun has set. The suspense is building. Onward.

There was one very good print on the STOP button.

- It was a perfect match. - Then we have it. Our murderer.

Caught in the vise of irrefutable evidence.

no denials, no counter accusations will set this killer free.

A fingerprint is a good as a signed confession.

So. Please. Murphy. Tell us, Whose print is it?

Laura's.

- Laura? - I'm sorry.

I was never in that elevator.

I have only two things to say:

I have known Laura Holt ...

I don't what even to think how long I've known Laura Holt.

And I can say, without fear of repudiation ...

that this woman, is incapable...

of any foul play against Alan Grievey. or anyone else.

Aren't you?

Rhetorical question.

I also want to say...

you're fired.

It's staring us in the face, dammit.

Do you know what you're looking for?

I've no idea.

Something. Anything that seems out of place.

Alan's room is the only one we haven't been through.

Closet, closet, closet.

Closet.

The man had excellent taste.

A little conservative.

Someone should have told him that herringbone is out.

Houndstooth is au currant.

Actually, Murphy...

a trained eye can learn a great deal from a man's clothes.

- We dress for what we are. - Or what we pretend to be.

Now what we have here is a man who spared no expense on himself.

Silk suits, custom made, and...

by and large, always in style.

A man who lost a great deal of weight, I would think.

He went from a size 44...

to a 38; with no stops in between. Hmm.

- He's done it again, hasn't he? - Did what?

Of COURSE. We've gone about this thing all wrong.

We've dissected everyone but...

the one person we should have been looking at from the start.

- Alan! - Alan? Don't be absurd. The man's dead.

The others are calling the police Getting ready to leave.

We have to stop them.

Ha.

Yes, well, maybe not.

His business was off 30%.

He let a lot of people go.

Murphy, why do people put an elevator in their homes??

Charles Laughton.

Witness for the Prosecution.

Had a stroke. Couldn't walk upstairs.

He's good.

You know what I think?

I think Alan was a very sick man.

What are you doing?

"Best murder".

A man gets on an elevator. He's all alone.

It makes no stops, but when the doors open, he's dead.

What happened?

Sometime during the day...

he must have taken the belt from Sandy's robe

It was already attached to the elevator cables.

and sitting on top of the vent...

Now, I don't know what he used, but he pulled it through the vent.

and he must've transferred MY fingerprint to the elevator button.

And then he hooked it up...

into a noose.

he put it around his neck

and then... pressed UP.

As the elevator rose...

the cable jerked the belt tight breaking his neck.

Only that wasn't good enough. Suicide wasn't what he had in mind.

So he set it up so the noose would tear.

That way, by the time the elevator reached the second floor...

the cable would have pulled the belt back up through the vent.

So it just disappeared.

In every way it looked like a murder.

Why, Laura?

Why would he do something like that?

It takes MONTHS to lose 35 pounds.

If Alan didn't have clothes...

it was because he was somewhere he didn't need them.

A hospital.

Remember the dog food? Shelves of it.

- The only thing missing was... - A dog.

We haven't seen one all weekend.

When a man knows he won't be able to take care of it...

he'd probably find it another home.

The threads, the fingerprints.

He probably put the gun in Carl's bag. then in mine

Why would he DO that to us?

Alan was always letting us know he was better than us.

He invited us here for one final joke.

A last vanity, so to speak.

Something to remember him by.

Laura, they might not have found out for years.

You could have been convicted of murder. That's no joke.

Alan was always true to his word.

He said if we didn't solve the murder...

he'd explain it to us before we left.

The elevator servicemen are coming on Monday.

I'm sure they're checking the cables.

It's just like him. They would have found the belt.

So rewarding, So stimulating.

What a brain twister that was. A puzzle to test the finest minds.

And you, Miss Holt...

shone brilliantly.

You know, I've been thinking. Perhaps...

we should have a reunion every year.

Ballistics tests conducted several days after...

PROVED that the path of the bullet...

began INSIDE the industrialist's body...

And travelled OUT.

That's AMAZING.

But how's it possible?

How?

You wanna know how?

Bernice, a good murder is like a good wine:

It should be savored.

So take the evening Or the week, for that matter.

Allow it to seep into your thoughts...

invade your dreams.

Consider it...

and ponder it.

Is that how it's done?

That boy's come a long way.

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